Saving Juliet (17 page)

The last thing anyone needed was for Juliet to fall in love with Troy Summer.
Time to nip this in the bud.
Time to get back on track.
"Friar, you said that it's God's will that we honor our parents. But isn't it also God's will to help those in need?" I asked. "Haven't you taken a vow to do just that? And wouldn't it be a terrible sin to break that vow?"

"Indeed, it would be." He placed his palms on his fat belly. "But how can I help?"

"Isn't there a third option, besides marriage or death? Couldn't she leave Verona? If she ..."

"Leave Verona?"
Troy interrupted. "I thought we were going to end this story, Mimi. You want to get out of here, don't you?" He bumped into the wall, retreating from Juliet's amorous gaze. "Don't you?"

"Troy, can I talk to you in the other room?" I asked. Troy eagerly slipped past Juliet and followed me to the friar's workshop. We stood beneath the hanging herbs, glaring at each other. "Of course I want to get out of here. There's a price on my head. But I promised Juliet that I would help her, and that's what I intend to do. She's such a nice girl, Troy. She's so young."

Troy leaned on the table. I expected him to argue with me, to tell me I was an imbecile, to tell me I should get a lobotomy or something. "You may need a vacation from your life, Mimi, but I can't afford to take one. I have to shoot this DVD. My sales were way down last month, and if I don't keep moving forward, I'm going to become one of those pathetic, washed-up teen idols. I've got to get back."

"Oh," I mumbled, stunned by his confession.

"And don't forget the whole gangrene thing." He raked his fingers through his blond hair, pushing it off his forehead. "I don't pretend to understand any of this but I know one thing for certain. We're the real people here. They're just characters. Don't forget that."

I sighed. My mother was a real person and she would be worried sick. Troy was a real person who needed to see a doctor, and I certainly needed to deal with my own problems. Maybe he was right. But maybe he was wrong. "If these people aren't real, Troy, then how did one of them manage to do that to your leg? I think they're as real as we are."

"You're so pig-headed." His blue eyes turned stormy. "You know the
play as well as I do
. Romeo and Juliet kill themselves. It's the way it has to be."

"Why? Why can't it be different?"

"Because Shakespeare didn't write it different," he insisted, folding his arms. "Juliet's destiny is already mapped out."

"But she didn't get to choose her destiny."

"Huh?"

"Why does everyone else get to choose our destinies? That's what I want to know." Feelings began to bubble
--
feelings I thought I could control. But they came fast, shooting to the surface like a geyser. I was going to blow. I clenched my fists. "Why does everyone think they can tell us what to do? That they know what's best for us?" I took a deep breath then wagged a finger at him. "Just because Shakespeare created this world doesn't mean that he gets to decide Juliet's fate."

"Uh, yes it does, actually," he said sarcastically.

"Well, I say it doesn't." Rage took over. "She has her own desires and she doesn't have to die if someone gives her a chance to get away from her horrid life.
Away from that horrid mother.
Away from her name.
Do you hear me? She needs to get away from her name!"

Have you ever had one of those lightbulb moments? Just like in the cartoons when you felt like you had actually reached up and flicked on the light switch? That you had achieved some sort of enlightenment? Rage can do that. Like an eruption it can clear away all the clutter we layer over our true feelings. We were in the same boat, Juliet and I, riding down the same tumultuous river with our parents at the helm. Our choice was to stay on board or capsize the whole thing!

Juliet's destiny could be changed. I was going to stick to my promise because I knew, to the core of my being, that I had been sent to help this girl. Our fates were linked in some kind of cosmic, otherworldly way.

"I'm going to help Juliet find that happy ending and I'm going to get us both
home
. Somehow, I'll do it." I didn't give him the chance to reply.

I returned to the friar's room. He and Juliet were eating the last of the soup.

"Juliet," I said. "It's true that only death will free you from this situation."

She straightened her back and tried to look brave. "I'm ready to face death."

"But she won't have to, will she, Friar? There's a way that death can be faked, isn't there?" I waited for his reply. He knew what I was talking about because he stared at his soup bowl for a very long time. The friar helps Juliet fake her death in Shakespeare's play, but who knew what he'd do in this upside-down version.

Juliet threw herself on the floor at his feet, clutching the hem of his brown robe. "Please, Friar Laurence. Do you know of a way?"

He clutched his silver cross and nodded.

***

"Delays have dangerous ends".

Friar Laurence, Juliet, and I sat in the herbal room while Troy sulked on the cot. A light breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the sickly sweet scent of a jasmine vine. We didn't have much time to pull everything together since the wedding was scheduled for the following evening.

Friar Laurence mixed up a batch of sleeping potion. "We are not so different," he told Juliet. "I also wish I could leave Verona."

"Truly?" she asked.

"Yes. I would like to travel the countryside, taking my medicines to the poor. The patrons of St. Francis are wealthy. They can hire apothecaries and surgeons. My talents would better serve those of lesser means." He poured the brown potion into a small glass vial. "But I am tied to this place. I cannot leave here unless the church's governing body releases me." He corked the vial and tied a string around it. "This potion mimics death by turning the skin cold and slowing breathing to the point of imperceptibility. Upon drinking this you will have only ten minutes of consciousness." Juliet tied the vial around her neck and tucked it into her bodice. "I will arrive a few hours before the ceremony. A servant will notify you of my arrival. Take the potion immediately. When I come to your room to offer a wedding prayer, I will declare that you are dead."

"The potion's perfectly safe?" I asked.

"Yes." He paused to rub his chin. "I have never actually used it. But others before me have."

"Then what?"
Juliet asked.

"Then your nurse will dress you for burial and I will escort your body to the tomb," the friar said.

"How long will she sleep?" I asked.

"Half a day, not much more than that.
I can make a stimulating potion if we should need to wake her up earlier."

Juliet scrunched her face, as if suddenly pained. "This will not work at all. The Capulets always host very long visitations, for days and days. How can I lie still for days and days? It is impossible." Her shoulders dropped and she flung her head back. "Oh, how can we make this work?"

"Why would she have to lie there for days and days if she's inside the casket?" I wondered.

"Juliet will be laid
atop
her casket as tradition dictates. This could be our undoing," the friar fretted. He started pacing. "If Juliet's body disappeared, the Capulets would suspect foul play on the part of the Montagues and that would be certain to escalate the violence."

"They might even guess the truth, that I had faked my death." Juliet frantically wound a lock of hair between her fingers. "They would go looking for me. And they would know that you had something to do with it, Friar."

"Lord
have
mercy."

"Then we have to make sure that no one comes for the visitation. How can we do that?" I tapped my fingers on the table.
"How?"
I tapped faster, straining my brain. The friar thought so hard that it looked as if he was having a bowel movement. Juliet started pacing, too. Her hair, formerly flattened by the hood, had regained its spring and bounced against the herb bundles as she paced.

Troy peered into the room. He had been so quiet during our planning that I had forgotten all about him. "Your plan stinks. I'm going to get Romeo," he announced.

I stopped tapping. "But Troy
..
."

"It's the only thing that makes sense." He leaned against the wall, taking the weight off his hurt leg, and started tying his shirt. "Friar, where can I find Romeo?"

"He should be at Montague House. It lies at the opposite end of this very street."

"But Troy
...
"

"Don't try to stop me, Mimi," he said, adjusting his tights. "I'm going to go get Romeo and bring him back to meet Juliet so they can fall in love and do what they were meant to do, before you doom us both. I have no intention of losing my music contract. Nor do I intend to lie on that cot and die of an infection." He started down the stairs.

That was it!

I leaped off the stool. "Friar, if you told everyone that Juliet had died of plague, what would happen to her body?"

The friar's mouth fell open. He looked at me, dumbfounded.
"Plague?
The family would panic. No one would dare go near Juliet. She would be placed in her casket and it would be set afire."

"Who would set her casket on fire?"

"Why, I would." His eyes lit up and he clapped his hands. "Holy St. Francis, you have solved the riddle."

Juliet stopped pacing. Needles of dried rosemary speckled her hair. "Then you will take me to Manhattan? I'd love to be an actor, just like you, Mimi. Will you take me there to be an actor?"

"I wish I could but I don't think it's possible. I don't even know if I can go back."

She stuck out her lower lip and sighed. "I so want to be an actor."

If she only knew the realities of the acting life.
But I wasn't about to crush her dream. If she wanted to be an actor, then let her be an actor. More power to her!

"Juliet must not travel alone. The world is far too dangerous for a girl
on her own,
" Friar Laurence pointed out. "There are bandits and rapists at every bend in the road. And I am not prepared to leave Verona, not with my obligations to the governing board. Besides, I have no money for travel. Perhaps you and Troy could escort her."

"You can't count on us," I said. "We don't know how long we'll be here. Besides, we don't have money either."

Juliet slumped over the workshop table. Her eyes filled with tears. "I have no money either, except a few coins. Without money I shall have to go straight to a nunnery." She started to cry. "I cannot be an actor in a nunnery." A nunnery meant living in solitude, totally shut away from the world. That would protect her from the Capulets, but it would simply be exchanging one prison for another. She had way too much spunk for a nunnery.

"We can figure this out," I insisted. "We just need to find an escort and we need to get our hands on some money."

"Or, we need to find an escort
with
money," the friar said cleverly.

Of course! Who else but the very person who is supposed to be with Juliet in the first place? He wasn't doing anything, anyway. Just sitting around, moaning about that stupid Rosaline. It wasn't like he had to fall in love with Juliet, or vice versa. He just had to help her get out of the city, to a safe new life. And he had told Rosaline that his chests overflowed with gold coins.

I ran back to the bedroom and opened the window, hoping I could catch him. "Troy!" I called. It was early evening and the moon had not yet risen. In the dim light I could barely see Troy standing in the road. He was looking up at me. "Troy," I yelled again. "Wait for us. I want to take Juliet to meet Romeo. He'll help her get out of this wedding, I'm sure of it."

"Mimi!" Troy stumbled into the bedroom, his eyes wild. The guy I had been yelling at was still standing in the road. "Tybalt's outside," Troy said. "He saw me. I bolted the door but it won't keep him out for long." Juliet and the friar rushed into the bedroom.

Tybalt?
I jumped back from the window. Oh God, what had I done?

"Juliet!" Tybalt yelled from the street. "I know you are in there with that Montague scum. Come out or I shall break down the door."

Juliet gasped. "He must have followed me. Oh Mimi, I've put you in danger."

"Friar," Troy said. "Is there a back door or something?"

"Heaven have mercy." Friar Laurence took a lamp from the desk and lit it. "There's an old passageway that leads under the church. But it hasn't been used in many years. Friar Hugh built it for secret visits to his mistress."

"Juliet!" Tybalt hollered.

"I must go to Tybalt," Juliet said. "If I do, perhaps he will leave the rest of you alone." That did not seem likely. Troy and I had totally pissed him off.

"What will happen when your parents find out that you left your room?" I asked. "When they find out that you were with a Montague?"

"They would not dare to hurt me, not on the eve of my wedding. I shall be safe, Mimi. Do not worry."

I pointed to her bodice, where the potion was hidden "Don't drink that until you get word from Friar Laurence, just before your wedding. In the meantime, we'll work out all the other details." I tried to sound confident, to mask my growing fear. "I'll see you when you wake up." We hugged again. Her shoulders felt as tense as mine. This whole situation was a complete mess. What had I started and where would it end? Oh please let it end happily. If time had permitted, I would have fallen to my knees and prayed to St. Francis.